Dragon's Untitled
by Dragon Claymore
Summary: Harry's back at the Dursley's, but for how long this time? Meanwhile, at Hogwarts, someone has breached the wards. What do they want? Do they even know where they are. Eventually HPGW, OFC BW. Rated for possible semimature themes, language, and violence.
1. Harry's First Day

Ok, I'm FINALLY off and running. I've been working on this story for a long time now and I'm sick of waiting for a title to come to me so I'm posting anyway.

Many thanks to those who have read this: the former 'Just Books' ladies and my typist Ica (I write pen and paper you translate into text, many thanks.)

Also to my betas: Wildfire and MysticSong -- I appreciate the ideas, Wildfire. Mystic, you have a far better grasp of the English language than this former English major does. Thanks.

Disclaimer: if you recognize it -- it's not mine. There will probably be references to Buffy and HP among others in here so just Ms. Rowling mentioned in here doesn't quite do it ;-)

Other than my sometimes sick sense of humor, I can't think of any warnings for you. No HBP spoilers for a while, as I've been working on this longer than it's been out.

Ummm... I think that's it. On with the story!

**Chapter One: Harry's Return **

Harry stumbled up to his room. His heart ached at the thought of the events at the Ministry.

'My fault, my fault,' he muttered. Closing his eyes against the remaining light outside, images of his godfather's fall through the Veil continuously flashed through his mind. He was ready to collapse onto his bed when his aunt screeched from the bottom of the stairs, 'Supper! Get down here now!'

Harry reluctantly staggered downstairs. He stared at the plate in front of him. Even though there was little food in front of him, Harry wasn't sure he could eat all of it and keep it down. Instead, he stared blankly at his proffered meal, remembering.

As the train had pulled away from his ho—Hogwarts, he made a promise to Sirius. Bellatrix would share the same fate in the war as Voldemort.

I don't care who does it. If it is to be me, I will, but Bellatrix will NOT survive this war. That's the least I owe Sirius.

He repeated his vow continuously until he etched it firmly in his mind.

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Harry tried to remember his vow during the day, but the night was almost impossible. Nightmares plagued him. If he didn't dream of Voldemort, then Sirius' death was re-played in an infinite loop.

Idly, Harry wondered if his summer would have been any better if he had been able to spend it at Hogwarts. Staying near Dumbledore would be awkward, but perhaps he could find out what was going on.

A few days later, as he lay on his bed enjoying the cooler evening air, Harry allowed his thoughts to wander. What were his professors up to this summer? Were Ron and Hermione enjoying their summer? What was going on at the Order Headquarters? Hogwarts?

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	2. The Arrival

Disclaimer: nope, the world still isn't mine. Neither is the song in this one – full details at the end.

Thanks again to Mystic, you rock!

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**CHAPTER TWO: The Arrival **

Just outside a small three-person tent sat a young woman; she had the look of someone just out of his or her teens and still dealing with the consequences of that. A dusty tome sat in her lap. She gazed on it with a look of frustration on her face,

"Open, damnit!" she pleaded.

The book ignored her as it had so many times before. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out the letter that had accompanied the book. Her grandmother had seen fit to give it to her on her seventeenth birthday. The letter was short and direct without being rude – her grandmother through and through.

Dearest,

I give this book to you as it was given to me. If it is meant for you to read it, the key will find its way to you. If not, then pass it on to whomever you deem fit.

Have a wonderful seventeenth birthday.

Love,

Grandma

Although the book had no visible lock, it refused to open. Sighing, she placed the book back in its place at the bottom of her pack. As she broke camp thoughts began to rise unbidden in her mind.

**Flashback**

"Your brother wanted you to have these," an apologetic man in uniform held out a small package. Inside laid a duplicate set of dog tags sat encased in white linen. The three-by-three inch box fell to the floor with a conclusive thump. She would have followed the box on its trip had the sympathetic officer not caught her.

"Sit here," he guided her to the nearest chair and left to bring her a glass of water. After handing it to her, he lifted the box to her lap.

"Your brother asked me to wait until after the service and burial for you to receive these. He said he didn't want them with him, this set was for you. They are to be a memorial for you of him. That is why he had the duplicates made. One for him, and one set for you," the officer smiled, compassion in his eyes "Will you be ok?"

Through a haze of tears and the lump that had taken up permanent residence in her throat she managed a small, "Yes… someday, I hope."

**End Flashback**

Impatiently wiping the tears away, she looked at her compass. Deciding on her path for the day was easy, N.NE the path that would take her toward…

There's something out there, something I can't explain but the time has come to find it

Her own words echoed in her mind. That something's pull was only getting stronger. She didn't need the compass to find where she was going but it would certainly help when it came time to re-trace her steps.

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Later that day:

Looking from the sun to her watch, she decided it was high time she found a place to tent out. Since she had no desire to have someone waking her up screaming about trespassing, she looked for a farmhouse.

Funny she thought there're usually a good half-dozen places to stop and ask about camping out. There's only one tonight

She paused for a moment and fished her wallet out of the middle of her pack. Continuing up the path to the battered wooden door, she knocked politely and waited for the reply.

"Who's there?" a gruff voice called from the other side of the still-closed door.

"Excuse me sir," she began "I'm a hiker looking for a spot to camp for the night. If you have some fire wood and kindling you would sell me I would appreciate it."

"You alone?"

She hesitated before answering, "Yes sir, if you have a fire-pit you won't even be able to tell I was here in the morning."

He seemed to be contemplating his answer.

"No, go away! I have no use for meddling women!" His voice became harsher with every word.

"I appear to have upset you, I apologize. I never meant to meddle. I'm simply looking for a place to camp. I shall continue on my way and seek shelter elsewhere." She replied, coolly polite.

She turned on her heel and left. Heading back to the road, she decided that she no longer had a choice. The forest looked menacing and felt dangerous, however with no other viable options she started into the forest. She prayed her instincts were correct and if she got through the forest there would be somewhere she could safely camp. The light was fading fast and the farmer's rebuff had cost her a precious forty-five minutes.

Humming a song she used to sing in school as a child, she waked carefully into the dark woods.

"Robin Hood and Little John walking through the forest"

I wonder how big this forest is?

"Laughing back and forth at what the other had to say"

Why did that farmer seem almost… frightened to have someone knocking at his door?

"Reminiscin' this an' that an' havin' such a good time"

Give me a red cape and a basket and I could be Little Red Riding Hood off to Grandma's house she snorted at that thought. She did have the red cape and basket at home.

"oo dil lal lie, oo dil lal lie, golly what a day"

These woods are thicker than I thought, it's getting really dark.

Her humming abruptly died as she rounded a bend and a set of gates came into view. She blinked and blinked again. One moment the gates appeared to be in a state of disrepair with a sign saying "Danger – condemned, unsafe" and the next well cared for with what appeared to be flying boars on top of the posts.

She closed her eyes and gave her head a shake, thinking choose one image and stick to it, this playing around is annoying me!

When she opened her eyes again to her relief, the scene had decided to stay at the welcoming one.

Good she thought 'cause I'm running this one down to the wire. I'll be lucky to set up camp before dark, let alone get a fire lit.

Starting up the path to the castle, she noticed a small hut on the edge of the woods that appeared to be occupied. After steeling herself for a rebuttal, she knocked politely. The wood-plank door swung open and she found herself facing the end of a very sharp arrow loaded into a crossbow.

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A/N:

I'm evil I know, but I LOVE cliffies, even though as a reader they do frustrate me as well ;-)

Any questions please ask – don't ask one will never know.

The song is from the animated 'Robin Hood' movie from Disney.

Please review – Jelly Slugs for everyone that clicks that little button…


	3. Give Me Just One Night

Mystic – My suffering Beta, I've said it before and I'll say it again – you rule! (Hands over a bag of chocolate frogs, just say you'll keep going please! ;) ) 

Disclaimer: nope not JK. Just having a spot of fun, like everyone else here

**CHAPTER THREE: Give Me Just One Night… **

"Who are yeh?" A voice came from behind the arrow. Wanting to reply, she found her shock at the threat too great as she realised she was moving her mouth but no sound was coming out. The arrow slowly lowered so it was pointing at her stomach. She shut her mouth. She tried to swallow the knot of fear that had taken up residence in her throat.

"Sorry to disturb you sir, but I was wondering if I might be allowed to camp out on the lawn for the night." She continued in a rush, "I won't cause any problems, and I'll be gone in the morning, and you won't even be able to tell I was here and I can pay you if you want, sir." The man, so tall that he was almost a giant – looked down at her with suspicion.

"'ow did yeh get in h'ere?" He asked puzzled.

"I… I walked" she managed to stutter.

"What do yeh see when yeh look there?" The giant indicated behind her to the castle.

"A castle?" she replied, confused.

"Yeh mean yeh can see it?" He exclaimed astounded. "What is tha' castle called?"

"No idea, please sir, may I camp here? It's almost dark and I don't relish the idea of finding anywhere else to stay."

"Let me check with Dum… uh… let me check up a th' castle. Stay here; Fang stay." He commanded the boarhound before stepping out of the hut. She sank onto the steps as the giant retreated into the fading light.

Soon after he left, it became apparent that she would be setting up in the dark. Fang moved over and sat watching her every move. She hesitantly moved her hand over, palm up, for him to sniff. Almost an hour later, the giant emerged and proceeded back towards the hut. It appeared as though two people were coming but in the near non-existent light, she couldn't be sure.

"Oiy, you there… wha's yer name again?" the giant called

"Just call me Miss, sir. May I camp here?"

"Miss, then, c'on in an' h've a cuppa tea. Prof… er… Miss McGonagall will set up a spot fer yeh."

"Uh… I appreciate the offer of help but my tent can be finicky to set up."

"Please be assured that your tent will be handled appropriately." The woman answered.

She nodded and pulled the tent free of her pack, then followed the giant inside the hut.

"Yeh made friends w'th Fang. Not always an easy thing," the giant started conversationally as he poured the tea.

"Most dogs that have been treated properly are big piles of mush once they're sure you're no threat," she replied. "Mine is as long as he doesn't think whomever he's meeting is a threat to either of us."

"How well dunnee understand yeh?"

"He knows a good number of commands but when it comes to meeting people he watches my body language and tone of voice more than the commands. They always know more from that in case it's someone I don't like but have to be polite to." She explained, the tea was scalding so she blew on it for a while before sipping carefully.

"Why did you ask me what I saw behind me earlier?"

"'cause yeh shoundna be able ter see it." He paused and started to look crestfallen. "I shouldna tol'd yeh that."

"Ok, now I'm really confused." McGonagall chose that moment to step in and smiled politely at them, sparing the giant from creating a reply for the young woman.

"All set dear," she said.

"Thank-you ma'am. I don't want to be a bother so I'll leave at first light."

"No need. Where are you headed in such a rush?" McGonagall asked.

She smiled apologetically, "I'm not sure. It was simply after everything that had happened I needed to do this."

"Wha' happened?" the giant asked. McGonagall shot him a sharp look, "Tha' is if yer ok w'th me askin'?"

Her eyes seemed to lose focus as she considered how much she could tell them. They seemed trustworthy.

Appearances are deceiving her grandmother's words echoed in her mind. Carefully editing her story, she began,

"My family has… changed… a lot in the past year. Friends aren't what they once were." The grief threatened to burst over the carefully built wall. Covering her face until she was sure the reinforcements would hold, she looked up and faced the two.

"If you'll excuse me, I've had a very tiring day. Thank-you for the tea. Nice to meet you both." She made her way out of the hut and over to her tent. After crawling under her sleeping bag, she fell asleep without undressing.

The next morning she awoke and stretched. Feeling more refreshed than she had in a long time, she opened her window crack. Startled by what she saw, she quickly changed and, pulling on her boots, she hopped out of the tent.

The air around here is thick with … magic?

The grounds were a beautiful green. Off in the distance she could see what appeared to be stands. However, the biggest difference she noticed from the night before was the castle. It looked so friendly but somehow lonely. As if it was accustomed to playing host to far more people than it currently did. She saw Miss McGonagall headed towards her. She suppressed a snort; the woman was a teacher through and through.

So she surmised this place must be a boarding school of some sort. That's why it feels lonely – school must be out for the summer already.

"Good morning Miss. Did you sleep well?" McGonagall asked.

"Very well, thank-you. Don't worry I'm starting to pack up." She moved towards her tent door.

"No need to hurry," McGonagall assured, "Why don't you come up to the castle and have breakfast with us?"

"I suppose – as long as I am not intruding."

"Certainly not, there are a few people who are more interested in meeting the young woman who camped here last night."

"M E A T or M E E T?" She asked with a wry grin.

"Excuse me?" McGonagall asked.

"Never mind, pop-culture reference."

McGonagall, still looking puzzled, turned and proceeded towards the castle. Once inside the castle McGonagall took the lead. She never had much of a chance to see what it was she was passing.

This is not ordinary boarding school she thought

McGonagall paused at a set of large gilded doors. She caught up and had to remind herself that it would be a good idea to close her mouth. Her grandmother had tried to teach her some manners in her otherwise male-dominated life. It was such a remarkable place though, that she wanted to gawk at everything. She settled for looking around as much as she could without being too obvious. The doors opened to reveal a huge dining hall. Near the far end, a large round table sat surrounded by the oddest-looking group of people. The oldest looking gentleman stood up and greeted the pair as they approached.

"Minerva, I see you convinced our guest to join us."

"Professor Dumbledore, this is …" McGonagall trailed off

Meidh stepped in "Miss Meidh McRobertson sir, pleased to meet you."

AN: Pronunciation guide to her name at the end.

"Likewise my dear. This is Professor Hagrid, Professor Sinstra, Professor Snape, Madam Prince, Professor Sprout, Madam Hooch, Madam Pomfrey and you've already met Professor McGonagall." He indicated each person around the table in turn.

Meidh had to bite her tongue after introductions were made; else, she was going to ask Professor Snape if he had just enjoyed a lemon. Platters and bowls of food crammed the table and only after Dumbledore beckoned everyone to sit and enjoy did the chatter begin.

"Help yourself," Dumbledore encouraged. Meidh nodded, selected some sausages and eggs and began to eat.

"So how did you find our castle?" He continued conversationally

"I've been on a search for over a month, I think, and this happened to be on my path." She replied between mouthfuls

"Wha' are yeh serchin' fer?" Hagrid asked.

"Something I couldn't find where I was. The missing part of me." She looked up shocked and clapped her hand over her mouth. Bracing for the onslaught of questions sure to come she looked warily at the table.

"A spiritual quest of sorts. Fascinating, tell me what lead to the decision to search here?" Dumbledore inquired.

"A lot of … changes that showed me I was missing something." She tried not to spill everything or the grief would give her another breakdown.

"And you chose to search in Scotland?"

Meidh smiled "I know my ancestors are from here and I couldn't stay where I was. The added bonus of seeing this beautiful country first hand made the choice easy."

Seeing that everyone had finished Dumbledore decided that further discussion with this young woman was desirable.

"Miss McRobertson, would you join me for a cup of tea in my office?"

She paused and considered the request. His eyes were twinkling madly so she decided to trust her instincts.

"Sure, right away?"

"If you're finished, then yes. Professor McGonagall, would you join us?"

The professor nodded.

"Excellent, well then, off we go." Dumbledore lead the way out of the hall. Meidh openly gawked at everything.

The computer power used to run this place must be huge she mused.

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Just a note:

Meidh: pronounced like Mauve (though if you ask me in person I'm more likely to say 'mead' consequence of not having someone readily available who speaks this beautiful language), is Scottish Gaelic for balance

Caelan: is a Celtic / Gaelic name meaning: Victorious People. If anyone knows how this is pronounced please let me know I found it in a name book and really liked it.

McRobertson: A Scottish family name I modified.

Okie now you know press that little button at the bottom and let me know what you think! Droobles if you do…


	4. Explanations

HAPPY THANKSGIVING! To any / all Canadians reading this! Here is my gift for you!   
In return all I ask is for a click on that left-hand side button at the bottom.

Review, please and thank you with Lemon drops on top!

Betas are worth their weight in gold. Thanks Mystic, especially for the re-wording and Nessa's help too.

Disclaimer: JK lives in Scotland – I only wish I did. 'nough said.

**Chapter Four: Explanations. **

The Professors paused in front of a stone gargoyle.

"Fizzing Wizzbies" After the gargoyle moved aside, the small group stepped onto the stone escalator. Meidh began to notice a peaceful feeling starting to settle over her.

When did that begin? she wondered. The feeling had become so foreign that she had almost forgotten what it felt like. At the top of the escalator Dumbledore beckoned them inside. Once everyone was seated he began questioning the young woman.

"How much do you know about your family, how far back?"

"I know a bit about my great-grandparents but not much more than that. Wh…?"

Dumbledore held up his hand to stop the question.

"I will explain everything shortly. What do you know of magic?"

"Abracadabra, smoke, bangs, mirrors, and the like? Never learned much about it. Fun to watch but not really my thing."

"What of magic such as…" he pulled out his wand. "Wingardium Leviosa" one of the small silver instruments on his desk began to rise.

"Umm … Professor…" Meidh began. "That's not magic, that's telekinesis. A rare gift granted that usually takes a traumatic event or great emotional turmoil at a fairly young age for it to manifest."

"But not magic?" Dumbledore clarified.

"No, it's supernatural sure, but not magic. It's really not a big deal. For example…" Without taking her eyes off Dumbledore or saying a word Meidh's bag began to float up from where she had placed it next to her chair. With the ease of practiced movements, the purse opened and out came an old tome.

"See, no magic – simply telekinesis." The book sat in her lap, her purse closed and sat back down next to her chair. McGonagall was dumbfounded. She had heard of people with so-called telekinesis but they were usually near squibs with only limited access to their magical abilities.

"Miss McRobertson magic is real and I have reason to believe you are the first witch in your family in over 900 years. Through your father's mother, evidenced by that book you hold in your lap." Dumbledore moved over to the fireplace and after throwing a handful of powder in it he called out,

"Dobby, come up to my office please." After seating himself back down he explained. "Your ancestor knew that the magic in you line was becoming dormant and would remain that way for a long time. He decided to leave some… necessary items in the care of the Hogwarts headmaster until such time as the magic re-surfaced."

"You called Dobby, your headmastership sir" the small figure appeared in the fireplace. Meidh stared; she had never seen anything like it before.

"Yes, Dobby, could you bring up the McRobertson chest out of the house-elf quarters please."

"Certainly your headmastership, sir, Dobby is pleased to help." With a step back into the fireplace and a whoosh he was gone.

Meidh began to feel dizzy. She knew a bad migraine wasn't far behind. She needed to leave. Suddenly, determined not to be screaming in pain in front of the professors, she stood and grabbed her purse, stumbling toward the door. Knowing she had nearly run out of time, she opened her purse and found the pill bottle, but the effort was in vain. Pain shot through her head and down her spine, unable to hold it in any longer she let out a scream. The glass nearest to her shattered as McGonagall and Dumbledore rushed to her side. Knowing Madam Pomfrey would be able to help the young woman better than they could they magic-ed her onto a stretcher and gathered up her things. On the way to the hospital wing, Dumbledore cast a silencing spell on the screaming woman.

Madam Pomfrey came bustling out of her office as soon as the door opened. Once Meidh had been placed on the bed, Pomfrey ran through her tests. Quickly figuring out what the problem was she sent McGonagall for a bright blue potion at the back of her cupboard. Dumbledore showed Pomfrey the bottle that Meidh had been trying to open before she collapsed. McGonagall returned with the potion. Between the three adults they managed to make Meidh drink it. Her silent screams immediately ceased and the patient fell into a deep, calm sleep. Madam Pomfrey motioned to the professors that she would speak with them further away, not wanting to wake her patient.

"Was that what I think it was?" Dumbledore asked the mediwitch.

"Of course, it was by far the worst I have witnessed, but she finally came into her powers and adapted to her magic."

"I was under the impression that this type of process is uneventful and gradual, completed by the time a child reaches his or her fifth year."

The Mediwitch nodded, "Usually but if the power manifests itself late it can be mistaken for a muggle migraine." She held out the bottle of pills. "If she took these every time it manifested, then her magic would become blocked. The longer she took the worse the final adaptation would be. If she had waited much longer, it could have killed her."

McGonagall looked shocked, but Dumbledore simply nodded sadly, "Is there anything we can do for her?"

"For the next 48 hours I would prefer to keep her sedated. Then she is going to require a long explanation and more bed-rest."

"Very well, Poppy please let me know when she wakes." The professors took their leave of the hospital wing. After the doors closed McGonagall turned to Dumbledore.

"She will need support and training or there will be many problems, Albus"

"Yes, but first I need to send some owls."

Two days later:

Dumbledore sat at his desk and frowned at the letter he had just received. The North American Minister of Magic was more of a fool that Fudge. The Headmasters along with the minister refused to accept muggle-born students unless their talents rivaled that of an above-average pure blood. The fire flared and out stepped Madam Pomfrey.

"Headmaster, Miss McRobertson will be waking up shortly, her adaptation to magic should be complete."

"Thank-you, Poppy. I'll head down in a moment." After Pomfrey left, Dumbledore sighed and placed the letter back in its envelope.

A half-hour later Meidh started to stir. Dumbledore and Pomfrey moved over to one side of the bed. Meidh groaned and began to feel for an I.V. It was the easiest sure-fire way to know whether or not the migraine had landed her in the hospital. Feeling none she smiled but still didn't open her eyes.

"Miss McRobertson, wake up," Dumbledore called softly.

"I am awake." She mumbled, "And I am not opening my eyes; it hurts too much."

"What hurts?"

"The light hurts my eyes. Where's Peanuts?" she asked.

"Nuts are not something for you to eat right now." The Professor admonished.

"That joke got old 6 months after I named him." Meidh said exasperated. "Where's my dog?"

"He wasn't with you on the trip, remember?" Dumbledore explained.

"Crap. Ok, hang on." She attempted to sit up. Placing a hand over her eyes Meidh began the sometimes-slow process of adjusting to the light. Usually she managed to get her bedroom so the dim light was easier to adjust to. After several minutes she completely removed her hand and focused her sight on the relieved adults.

"Miss McRobertson, I need to speak to you about many things once Madam Pomfrey says you're ready to go."

"Honestly sir, all I need is something light to eat and some cool water and I'll be fine."

"I shall tell you when you're fine Miss McRobertson" Madam Pomfrey admonished. Meidh huffed. She folded her arms over her chest muttering under her breath how she detested pushy medical personnel, hospital beds, and hospitals in general. Dumbledore smiled and took his leave.

Much to Meidh's disgust Pomfrey insisted that she stay the night. That night she had the first nightmare in over a week…

'She was standing over the open grave of her brother watching helplessly as they lowered him in. She wanted to shout and scream at them. Her brother wasn't dead; he couldn't be dead. As hard as she tried to scream or even move at all she couldn't, she simply stood there watching and crying.

Suddenly the scene shifted and she saw her father. He was lying in the hospital bed, nearly the same color as the sheets on his bed. The doctor looked at her sympathetically and said something she didn't hear. There was no need. Eleven days had passed since the accident, the only thing holding her father there were the machines pumping oxygen in and out. He woke only once in the eleven days. Although he couldn't speak, he smiled at her and for a second his eyes held that special twinkle he reserved for her. Softly squeezing her hand, his eyes held the message she had been waiting for.

I understand. I'm ready when you are. It had taken her another six days before she was ready. She discussed it at length with the doctor and decided it was time to let her father go. He finished his race; it was time for her to continue on hers alone. After the machines had been removed, she climbed into bed with him. Something she hadn't done since she was 9, she laid her head on his chest and watched his face as the last traces of life ebbed from him. After he was declared dead she mechanically did the necessary papers. The only thing she could say was "he's gone, he's gone." It repeated itself like a mantra over and over.'

Madam Pomfrey was worried about her patient. Meidh's cries had awoken the mediwitch over a half-hour ago. As much as she may have wanted to wake the girl, it was dangerous to simply wake a person in the middle of a nightmare, especially with magic. With a gasp, Meidh awoke. After she had finally calmed, Meidh refused to tell Pomfrey anything.

"It was nothing that can't be helped with time, or so I've been told," she explained.

It was late the next afternoon before Pomfrey let Meidh out of the hospital wing. Pomfrey was reluctant to allow Meidh out but could find nothing medically wrong with the young woman. At Dumbledore's suggestion McGonagall offered Meidh her guest room to stay in. Meidh reluctantly accepted. She settled down in the pale blue and green room for a, hopefully restful, sleep.

After breakfast the next day, Dumbledore once again escorted McGonagall and Meidh to his office. He sat and studied the young woman. After a few long minutes he began.

"As I began telling you the other day, magic is real." He held up his hand to stifle her protests. "What you think right now, whether I am right, or you are is irrelevant. One of your ancestors knew that the magic in his line was going to become dormant for many generations. He chose to leave some items he felt should be passed on to any future witches or wizards his family may have. He placed them in this chest and convinced the Headmaster of Hogwarts to keep it safe until such time as it was needed. Only a member of the family may open it. The key for the lock is a strand of your hair." Meidh looked at Dumbledore speechless.

When she recovered her powers of speech, she looked at Dumbledore and said, "Sir, if that's the case may I please look at it in private. Should I require an explanation for anything I will be sure to ask."

Deciding to respect her decision, Dumbledore agreed. "Minerva, would you take the trunk down to Miss McRobertson's room for her?" McGonagall nodded. With a wave of her wand and a muttered 'locomotor trunks' the two women took their leave of the headmaster.

Once in the common room that linked all of McGonagall's rooms together, McGonagall moved to hover the trunk over to Meidh's room when the young woman stopped her.

"Please Professor, I would feel much better if you would look through it with me for a while." She stifled the coming protest quietly, "I couldn't bear to be around the headmaster much longer. He reminds me so much of my father that it hurts to look him in the eye. Dumbledore is a lot like my father," she paused, thinking about the twinkle in her father's eyes then in the headmaster's... the good and the bad.

"How long has it been since you lost your father?"

"Almost three months, I think, time had no meaning after so I'm not positive." Meidh moved over to the trunk and slipped in a strand of hair as she had been told. The lock sprang open as if it was brand-new. Cautiously opening the lid she peeked inside. The first thing that got her attention was a broom tucked in-between everything. Carefully she removed it from the trunk. It was… magnificent. There's no other word that works. Engraved on the sides of the handle were the words 'McRobertson Family Broom.' She ran her hand down the top of the wood, inspecting it as her father had taught her. Every piece of wood she used was inspected before it was developed. Suddenly, she let out a shout as she ran her hand over the top. Her name appeared down it. McGonagall looked over and gently took the broom.

"A great treasure indeed," she murmured, looking over at Meidh she explained, "In ancient times it was customary to have a broom made specifically for a family. As each child had its turn using the broom his or her name would appear on the handle like this. The broom will not work well for anyone else. A true gift indeed."

Grinning at her good fortune and her ancestor's foresight, she dug into the chest again. Books were the next items she reached for. They were titles she had never seen before. Hogwarts: the First Century of Learning, Potions: Poisons and Antidotes, and a journal were on top of the stack. McGonagall looked amused. The young woman had no idea how valuable the contents were. Deciding an elegant exit would be prudent she got Meidh's attention.

"I'll leave you to look through your books. If you need me simply knock on my door."

"Please wait just a moment then, I'll pull the rest of it out before I inspect anything." Reaching back into the chest Meidh pulled out a key, a ring, a necklace with a curious pendant and a bundle of clothes. Shaking out the bundle she found a pair of gloves, a tie, sweater and a black cloak with a crest on what would be the wearer's left hand side of his or her chest.

Recognition lit up McGonagall's eyes, "the tie, jumper, and cloak belong to the Gryffindor school uniform. The gloves are dragon hide and very useful. As for the other items, the key will be for your family's vault at Gringotts, the wizard's bank, and the ring and necklace I assume would be protection charms for your family. The journal will probably contain an explanation for everything."

"Thank you for all your help, Professor. I think I am going to curl up in the armchair and read the journal. One would suspect that it contains what information is needed. After all, how else am I going to find out?" Meidh murmured hesitantly.

McGonagall smiled and bid goodnight. Pocketing the key and jewelry, she returned the clothes and all the books except the journal to the trunk. After closing the lid, she placed the broom on top and curled up in the armchair. Opening the book she read the first few lines. 'To Whomever receives this journal: Welcome, I can only guess how long it has been since I wrote this but, I imagine it has been many, many years. This journal contains all the information and explanations I thought were necessary. First, the key is for our family's Gringotts vault number 1976. The contents belong to you, enjoy. Second, the necklace is our family protection charm, please put it on and never take it off. Many families have these but it is imperative that it is worn – even to bed and in the bath. There is more to that necklace than even I know. The ring is what muggles call a claddagh ring. It was the one that I gave my wife when we were married. If you wear it on your right hand, on the smallest finger it can enhance the effects of the necklace.'

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Phew, done another one…

Jelly Slugs for all my reviewers!

Pegasus63 – I'm aiming for updating every 2 weeks, my work schedule isn't really favorable to much more than that, plus real-life tends to do that annoying interrupting thing.

Fahzzyquill – I hope this answered some of your questions and as for the others – I'm pulling a JK and not telling. I don't want to spoil it.

Poppiecake – Thanks for the info. Caelan is pronounced like Kee-lan.

Wildfire – Thanks!

Mystic -- :) kick Nessa for me so she reads this. TY. ;-)


	5. Diagon Alley and Muggle Banking

Thanks again to Mystic.

Apologies on he late update, life did that interfering thing again in both Mystic and my lives… Enjoy.

**Chapter 5: Diagon Alley and the Muggle Bank **

The next morning McGonagall awoke and after dressing went out into the common room. The first thing she noticed was Meidh asleep in the armchair. The young woman had fallen asleep before she got very far. Gently shaking her shoulder McGonagall called "Miss McRobertson, it's time to wake up."

Meidh stirred and mumbled the age-old plea "Five more minutes please, Dad, I've got five more minutes right?" McGonagall laughed lightly but shook the young woman again.

"Time for breakfast, dear we don't want to be late."

"Or dear brother is going to eat it all. Alright I'm up." Opening her eyes, Meidh stared up at McGonagall startled. About to ask who she was and why she was in her room Meidh snapped her mouth shut and buried her head on top of her crossed arms over her knees. After a few minutes of sobbing, she managed to pull herself together.

"Sorry 'bout that, I was in the middle of a really good dream." She explained, somewhat embarrassed. "I assume it is time for breakfast."

"Are you ok?" McGonagall asked, concerned at the young woman's reaction when she woke up.

"Fine," Meidh said absentmindedly. "Give me a couple of minutes and I'll change and be ready."

When the two women arrived in the Great Hall, Dumbledore motioned Meidh to the empty seat next to him. She sighed but resigned herself to spending more time around the Headmaster than she wanted to.

"Since your magic has now manifested," Dumbledore began once everyone started eating. "It would be prudent to begin your education in the magical arts. Would you be interested in lessons over the summer or would you prefer to begin in September with the regular classes?"

Meidh considered the options carefully. Although she did not relish the idea of taking classes with a bunch of kids, perhaps if she began now, she could complete a couple of years worth of work. "I would appreciate being tutored over the summer – if it's not too much of a hassle."

Dumbledore looked thrilled, "Excellent! Professor McGonagall, would you please accompany her to Diagon Alley tomorrow to purchase the necessary items?"

"Certainly. We can leave shortly after breakfast and be back for supper at the latest; if that works for you Miss McRobertson?"

"Sure, I assume that's some sort of magical shopping district where we can get all the stuff. I would like to make a request to stop in London. There are a few things I need to take care of if I'm going to be here for a while."

"May I ask what you need to do?" McGonagall inquired.

"Just some stuff with banking and contact the kennel about Peanuts," she replied dismissively.

"Why didn't yeh bring h'm w'th yeh?" Hagrid asked.

"Because it's a minimum six month stay in quarantine when he arrives and I wasn't sure I was staying that long. Plus dad bought me a one-third stake in the local kennel shortly after we got him so I'd have a place that could be trusted to leave him when I had to."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a few minutes as if considering different options, "Why don't you let me check-up on your dog? Also, there is a Muggle bank close to Diagon Alley the Professor McGonagall could take you to."

Meidh hesitated before replying. "Ok, just let Linda know that I'm not sure when I'll be home, so arrangements for payment will continue hopefully uninterrupted."

"That's all set then. What would you like to do for the rest of today?" Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling madly.

McRobertson's eyes lit up, "Explore the castle!"

By lunchtime McGonagall had managed to show Meidh most of the main passageways and classrooms. As they entered the Great Hall, the professor began a discussion on transfiguration.

As lunch neared its end, Dumbledore turned to Meidh, "What were the contents of your chest?"

"Some old texts and books, a journal, a pair of gloves, a partial set of school robes, the Gringotts key, and the family broom. I've only started reading the journal. However it is proving to be most enlightening."

At the word 'broom' Madam Hooch's ears perked up. "Would you like to learn how to fly it?"

A bit taken aback by the sudden offer, it took Meidh a moment to consider before accepting the proposition.

Later that afternoon, Madam Hooch led McRobertson out to the Quidditch pitch. Ordinarily she would have taught the first session in the courtyard, but Madam Sprout had moved some of her less harmful plants out of the greenhouses. She needed the extra room to grow some of the more dangerous plants that Professor Snape required for his potions.

"Ordinarily, you would begin learning on a school broom as first-years are not allowed to bring their own. Since you are not the age of a first year, we can dispense that condition. Now I want you to mount your broom, and grip it tight." She began giving the standard orders that had shown so many first-years the basics of flight. Once Meidh had successfully done her hover for a moment, Madam Hooch decided to allow the young woman a solo attempt. Meidh rose fifty feet in the air and took off towards one set of hoops. After looping through the three, she headed towards the other end. Soaring to over two-hundred feet before diving on her way over, Madam Hooch knew she had a natural flyer on her hands. Looping the other goals Meidh landed neatly next to Madam Hooch and grinned like the proverbial cat that swallowed the canary.

"That was so cool!" Meidh exclaimed. "I'm going again." Before Madam Hooch could reply, Meidh took off again. After a few laps, she rose higher and higher over a hundred feet higher than the astronomy tower, there she stopped. It was so exhilarating just being up this high and the view was the best she had ever seen. Not realizing how long she had been up there, Meidh simply sat and stared at the clouds just above her.

So close. If I reached out my hand, I swear I could hold one, she thought.

Madam Hooch was becoming concerned. Meidh had been up there for too long. If they didn't hurry they would be very late for supper. Calling up to the young woman would prove to be useless; she was simply too far up to hear anyone yelling. Hurrying over to the broom closet, Hooch grabbed one and headed up towards the young woman.

"Miss McRobertson, come down this instant!" Madam Hooch called as soon as she was within earshot of the young woman. Meidh started, turned toward the professor and said, "Isn't this view magnificent? I can see the whole castle, and the mountains are fantastic!"

"The view is lovely, but if we don't go back to the castle directly we will be late for supper." Madam Hooch asserted.

"Already!" Meidh said, surprised and glanced at her watch. "Have we really been that long? Wow!"

The two women turned and headed for the ground and supper. After another fantastic meal in the Great Hall, Meidh excused herself quickly so she could have a chance to read more in the journal. Later that evening, Meidh found a passage in the journal she couldn't help but snicker at.

'The McRobertson's were once a respected highland clan both in the Muggle and magical worlds. Although the Scots were respected for their bravery, not every family member that attended Hogwarts was sorted into Gryffindor. Approximately only one-half were; the other half was sorted into Ravenclaw. Those in Ravenclaw joked that their Gryffindor counterparts had a sense of bravery that overrode their good sense. The Gryffindors would return that Ravenclaws don't know how to live life because they never took their noses out of their books. Understand, my reader, no one ever took offence to this banter. It was all meant in fun and all involved understood that.'

Meidh looked up and laughed lightly. That sounded somewhat like her family. Her brother and father would start with their 'man talks' in front of her and the fastest way to get them back to a safer topic was to bring up any 'woman problems' she could think of. She smiled wider when she remembered the first time her father took her shopping for underwear – she thought he would be red for a week!

Just then, Professor McGonagall came in. The Professor noticed Meidh smiling and moved over to where she sat.

"May I ask what is so funny?"

"Read this," Meidh handed over the journal and pointed to the passage. McGonagall took the book and attempted to read it. Although she could understand Scottish Gaelic fluently, she had never seen this dialect before.

"I cannot. This must be ancient Gaelic, as I am unfamiliar with this dialect." Meidh looked at the Professor confused.

"What are you talking about, Professor? It's English, not Gaelic."

McGonagall looked confounded for a moment, and then her expression cleared. "The journal must have a translation spell on it. However long it was before the magic returned only the person it returned to would be able to read it. Ingenious." Meidh smiled and read the passage aloud. McGonagall laughed lightly and bid Meidh good night.

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The next morning after breakfast, Meidh dressed in a t-shirt from home and stone-washed, ripped blue jeans and pulled the cloak out of the closet to wear over her, before following McGonagall to the apparation point. She pulled out a piece of parchment and indicated to Meidh that she needed to place a finger on it. She complied and a moment later felt a jerk behind her navel. They landed in an alleyway that ended in what appeared to be a solid brick wall. McGonagall tapped out a pattern on the bricks and stepped back. Meidh had learned not to question what these professors did, as the reason usually revealed itself in due course. Sure enough, an archway appeared in the wall. McGonagall smiled as she repeated Hagrid's standard line "Welcome to Diagon Alley."

The professor steered her pupil through the crowds to a white columned building. Before opening the second set of doors, the young woman read the warning and whistled low. "They should have a warning like that on all banks." After locating a goblin to take them down to her vault, Meidh turned to McGonagall and said, "You know professor, it's a little ironic that the number of our vault is the year I was born. Especially considering if you subtract one from each of the last two digits you have the month and day I was born. I was born on the sixth day of the fifth month. Coincidence?"

"I doubt that Miss McRobertson. You will find there are few, if any, coincidences in the wizarding world."

The goblin opened the vault and stepped aside. The room was almost filled with mainly gold coins but there were heaps of silver and bronze closer to the door. Meidh couldn't help but whistle appreciatively. "It's amazing what over 900 years of interest can do."

McGonagall went about placing the coins they would need into a couple of purses. "If you require more we can always come back and get some."

Back out into the alley, McGonagall steered Meidh over to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Once she was fitted, Meidh was taken over to Flourish and Blotts. "This is going to take some getting used to. The whole quills, ink and parchment thing. I'm used to typing out my papers on computer and printing them off. The main use for writing by hand was taking notes and then as long as you could read it, how messy your writing was didn't matter."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Computer? Is that some new muggle machine?"

"New? I think they're about twenty years old but the technology has improved vastly in the last five years or so."

Shaking her head, Meidh motioned for the professor to lead the way to the next stop. Olivander's was written across the sign in a fancy script. It was a dusty shop with a wand displayed in the window.

"Ahh, Professor McGonagall, so good to see you again…" McGonagall cut the shopkeeper off before he could start sprouting about her wand.

"Mr. Olivander, I've brought Miss McRobertson to purchase a wand."

Olivander squinted at Meidh, "Haven't seen someone from your family in a long time. The last wand I sold them was ebony and dragon heartstring, ten inches, very powerful. Now, which is your wand hand?" Meidh hesitantly raised her right hand and Olivander began his measuring.

Once finished he began pulling down wands. Many, many wands later Olivander conceded he did not have a wand that would be suitable or more correctly had chosen the witch. He began to question the young woman in hopes of gaining some clue.

"Miss McRobertson, what is your favorite tree?"

McRobertson smiled, "Mr. Olivander, I am a born and bred Canadian, the Maple of course." Olivander's eyes twinkled.

"That explains your shirt – 'I may not be perfect, but I am Canadian and that's close enough'. Quite fascinating." Meidh laughed.

"Yeah, I got a lot of looks from it when I traveled."

"Well as I have no maple wands ready I shall have to make you one…"

"Can I watch you make it?" Meidh broke in. Olivander was startled and appeared about to say no so she continued. "Please, my father trained me in woodworking and I would adore being able to see a craftsman at work."

Olivander considered carefully. He was about to say no when a thought struck him. This young woman would never find a wand suitable for herself unless she made it. This was why she had been trained in woodworking. He turned to the professor who was waiting patiently. After a hushed conference, McGonagall took her leave of the shop and Olivander beckoned Meidh to the back of his shop where he worked. After a brief explanation of where everything was and the most common wand-making techniques, he told the young woman to make her own. Meidh started to panic at the thought, but began to calm when she remembered this was her father's favorite way to introduce a new project when she became proficient.

Two hours later she emerged triumphant and handed her wand to Olivander for inspection. She had indeed used maple for the majority of the wand with ebony insets in the handle. He gasped at the power in the wand. It had not one but three cores! Meidh explained, "I did as you said to pick out the core and was only going to use the unicorn hair, but it had wound around a phoenix feather with a dragon heartstring and they wouldn't untangle."

Olivander smiled, "This is your wand, and may you serve each other well." McGonagall walked in and smiled at the pair.

"All finished?"

Meidh turned back to Olivander, "How much do I owe you?"

"Fifteen galleons enjoy your wand."

Once out of the shop McGonagall turned to Meidh, "May I see your wand?"

"Sure," Meidh said handing it over, "It is mainly maple with a little bit of ebony for aesthetics and fourteen inches. The same number as how old I was when the migraines were at their worst."

"Very powerful, it will take much strength to control."

Meidh grinned, "Well, I've always loved having a lot of power at my fingertips. When working on a project I would usually rather use the smaller hand held power equipment than the larger stand-up machines. Where to next?"

"The Apothecary for a cauldron and potions supplies. Also, students may bring an owl, a cat or a toad. Would you like to pick out one?" McGonagall explained.

"Hmm… well, I don't really care for toads, and with Peanuts a cat isn't a good idea so maybe an owl." Meidh contemplated.

"A wise choice, owls are also very useful as they carry your post. After the Apothecary we can stop at Eelyop's Owl Emporium and you can choose one."

The smell that hit Meidh as she stepped into the Apothecary nearly made her lose her breakfast. Hurrying things as best as she could, the women soon made their exit.

"I never thought I'd smell anything more nauseating than my brother's canvas duffle bag did. That was after he spent over a week out hunting in the woods. What kind of owls do they have in the emporium?"

"At one time or another they have carried every type of owl you could imagine. They also have a few very rare breeds."

"Cool, what kind should I get?" Meidh pondered.

"Whichever you fancy best," McGonagall answered the rhetorical question with a slight smile. As they entered the shop, the soft sounds of hooting filled the air. Meidh strolled up and down the aisles of cages trying to decide on only one. In the back corner she came across a section of cages labeled 'Interbreeds – very rare". There near the top was an almost perfect replica – in coloring – of her dog, Peanuts. It looked like a great-horned owl crossed with a snowy owl. He was almost completely black with only the very tips of some feathers white and a stripe that started just under his beak and continued to just above the middle of his body. McGonagall came up behind Meidh. Before the professor could say a word Meidh spoke up.

"That's the owl for me," she said definitively.

After paying for her owl and some treats, the two women walked back out into the Alley. Meidh pulled the Professor into the shop that she had wanted to see since walking past it on her way to the bank. Meidh never noticed the grim expression on McGonagall's face. Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes was fascinating inside. The professor didn't mind seeing the twins again but she dreaded the thought of what her new pupil might purchase to torment the staff with over the summer. Twin redheaded boys stepped over to the pair.

"Welcome to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes" one said.

"What are you in the market for today?" the other finished.

Meidh grinned. She had gone to school with a set of twins for most of her school years. This was going to be a lot of fun.

As the twins looked her over, one spoke up, "What's your name? I'm Gred and this is Forge."

Meidh smirked, she was almost positive that those weren't their real names. "I'm Anvil and this is Professor Hammer."

The one called Forge grinned broadly. "Professor I didn't see you there. So you're going by Professor Hammer now? Interesting choice."

"That's enough Mr. Weasley. This is Miss McRobertson. She is studying at Hogwarts for the summer." McGonagall admonished.

The twins glanced at each other. Gred turned to Meidh and held out his hand, "George Weasley and this is Fred," he moved over and took McGonagall by the arm, "Professor, allow me to give you a tour of our shop."

Fred grabbed Meidh's elbow and steered her to the other side of the shop. "While George keeps the good professor occupied, what are you looking for?"

"No idea, this just seemed like a really cool shop so I wanted to stop and take a look while we were here."

A mischievous glint came into Fred's eyes. "Here try these." He shoved a large plain, paper sack into her arms. "It's a sampler of our most popular items, and a card with the instructions for everything included. Just tap it with your wand and say 'mischief', when you're done tap it again and say 'done'. Otherwise the teachers will discover all our secrets."

Meidh laughed quietly, "Somehow I don't think that it could spill all your secrets. However, thanks for the tip." She quickly paid Fred, just as George finished the tour with McGonagall.

"Very fascinating, but if there's anywhere else Miss McRobertson wishes to visit we really must be going. We are nearly out of time."

"I'm ready. It was a pleasure to meet you both. Goodbye."

"'Bye," the twins chorused. "Come back soon."

As soon as they were out of earshot of the shop McGonagall turned to Meidh.

"May I ask what you purchased in there?"

"Oh, nothing much, a little of this and a little of that," she smiled mysteriously.

McGonagall appeared apprehensive, but after a stop in the candy shop, the pair headed back to the Leaky Cauldron. McGonagall secured Tom's services in looking after their packages while the women went for a quick errand in Muggle London. Meidh removed her cloak and draped it over her arm as they left. Professor McGonagall transfigured her robes into a Muggle dress and jacket. The bank was a glass and marble establishment that was very old and snooty. The Professor waited by the door while Meidh attended her business. The woman at the new accounts desk looked up at the young woman and sneered.

"I don't think you're in the right place, Miss."

Meidh feigned surprise, "This isn't the new accounts desk? Well then they should really change the signs."

The clerk sniffed indignantly, "You wish to open an account?"

"Would I be standing here if I didn't? I need to set up an account with a link to my accounts back in Canada."

"One moment please," she replied. After a brief hushed telephone conversation a man in a dark suit hurried out of the back offices.

"May I help you?" He said in a tone that said 'Get out.'

Meidh smiled and played her card. "Miss McRobertson, I would like to set up an account with connections to my banking in Canada." She reached out to shake his hand.

McRobertson, the name sounded familiar but then he dealt with many people in a single day. A lot of names were familiar simply because of their commonality. Then it clicked McRobertson was to be treated with the utmost respect, and he'd just tried to insult the girl.

The man paled but quickly composed himself. "Certainly Miss McRobertson, right this way." As he led her to the back offices Meidh smirked. She hadn't really wanted to play that card but it was effective. Silently she thanked her ancestor for the information. His great-grandfather had helped establish the back and the family name still held a lot of power over them.

Almost a half-hour later Meidh emerged, smiling. "Enjoy your stay in Britain, Miss," the man called out after her.

McGonagall stood and followed her pupil out. She noticed Meidh's shoulders shaking but she was moving too fast to catch up. Once back in the Leaky Cauldron, McRobertson burst into hysterical laughter. McGonagall could only understand every few phrases.

"Priceless… the look on his face… Service with a smile… anything more Miss? … Whatever you need!" Once she had regained control of herself, she explained everything to the waiting Professor. The women gathered everything from Tom and port-keyed back to the entrance hall. Professor Dumbledore greeted them.

"I trust everything went well."

"Diagon Alley is so cool. I got to meet the Weasley twins and the guy at the muggle bank… priceless!" Meidh burst out in fresh peals of laughter.

Dumbledore's eyes started twinkling madly. "Well in that case, why don't you leave your things there, dinner has begun."

McGonagall followed the Headmaster and Meidh up to the Great Hall shaking her head. McGonagall was amazed at the difference in the young woman. It appeared as though she had been able to place her grief aside for the day. She would certainly be a student to watch, especially with as powerful a wand as she had. The Professor began to worry that Hogwarts had acquired another student with a destiny that was pre-determined for them.

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Pretty please review! The more responses I get the more motivated I am to post the next chapter…

Thanks!

Dragon

Disclaimer: Ms. Rowling is a gold medal writer, I'm not. However I have been advised to add this: All concepts, ideas and characters not recognized from the Harry Potter Series belong to the author unless otherwise specified.


	6. Memories, Pain explained

Ok, Ok, I'm going to stop apologizing about updates and simply say: at this point I will when I can. The holidays are nuts especially since my Mom is a music teacher.

You know those Christmas concerts at local elementary schools one thinks are sooooo cute? Well, there's a lot of work into it when you have a part as a kid, there's even more as a teacher, plus getting presents mailed for the first time.

(Yes, they went out too late for Christmas but they are coming girls ;) )

Thanks again Mystic!

**Chapter 6: Memories**

Once everyone had finished eating Dumbledore asked Meidh what kind of wand she had gotten. Meidh smiled and wordlessly handed him her creation. Dumbledore looked puzzled as to why she hadn't said anything. He gasped as soon as his hand touched the wood. This was most assuredly a wand like no other.

"I had no idea Olivander was making wands like this."

Meidh smirked, "He doesn't."

The other staff members appeared amazed. "But then where did you get your wand?"

"Olivander's," Meidh replied. McGonagall shot her a look that said 'enough teasing. Explain it to them or I will.'

"However, Olivander didn't make it." Meidh explained, "I did." A gasp ran through the table. They had never heard of such a thing in recent times. Sure, in ancient days one made their own, just as a family made their own broom. However, since specialty trades began only the most skilled workers made wands.

"Well done," Dumbledore approved. "This is a very fine wand on your first try. Very powerful, it will take much strength to control."

Meidh barely resisted rolling her eyes. "So everyone keeps telling me," she muttered. Her wand was passed around the table so everyone could have a look. Most looked alarmed at the raw power in the wand. They knew Dumbledore didn't exaggerate, but this was more than they had imagined.

Just then a door to the Great Hall opened and in came Professor Sprout.

"My apologies for being late, my errand was more complicated than I thought. Professors, Headmaster, and Miss McRobertson may I acquaint you with…" She stepped aside revealing a small figure sitting behind her.

"PEANUTS!" Meidh screamed and scrambled from her seat. The dog gave a happy bark and took off towards his master. Meidh fell on her knees and hugged the dog around the neck. He began kissing her neck and ear; as soon as she pulled away enough he cleaned her face for her.

"Ok, ok," she laughed, "I did wash my face this morning. Come here you." Meidh picked up her dog and carried him over to the table. He laid contentedly half in her lap and gazed around at the others. Professor Sprout had taken her seat and was enjoying the scene as much as the others. McRobertson whispered in Peanuts' ear for a moment before kissing the top of his head. Speaking louder she said, "Peanuts, these are the Professors, be nice."

Dumbledore smiled, "I'm sure you two would like to get re-acquainted."

Meidh nodded, placed Peanuts back on the floor and rose. "We would at that. Thank-you very much for such a wonderful surprise. Good night all." Once the young woman had left the hall, the dog on her heels, Snape turned to the Headmaster.

"I must protest. Two dogs are more than enough in the castle. He will only cause a disturbance. What of the other students' cats?"

Dumbledore raised a hand to stop his agitated Potions Master. "He is her only link to the life she has left. The only reason she did not have him with her for this entire journey is Muggle Customs. To bring him would have meant a six-month stay in Quarantine. Due to the uncertain nature of her journey she made the decision to leave him in the care of others. As for the cats, he will know enough to leave them alone."

In McGonagall's common room, Meidh sat on the floor with Peanuts lying half on her lap again as she told him about her journey. She had just gotten to the part about Hagrid and his crossbow when McGonagall walked in. The Professor was amused to note the dog had noticed her presence but the woman had not. When Meidh had reached the end of her narrative the dog stood and trotted over to McGonagall. McRobertson looked up and smiled as Peanuts licked the Professor's hand.

"He wants a scratch, preferably behind the ears," Meidh chuckled, McGonagall obliged.

"How is it you know what he wants so well?"

"I've had him since he was old enough to leave his mother. My dad gave him to me as an eleventh birthday present. He said I was old enough to look after a puppy." She yawned and stretched. "G'night Professor, it's been a full day. See you for breakfast."

"Would you like a bed for Peanuts?"

"No thanks, he always sleeps at the foot of my bed. He makes a wonderful foot heater in the winter." She smiled, "Again, good night."

Sleep refused to visit Meidh that night. Every time she started to doze the memories of her brother and father would emerge. Finally, well after midnight, Meidh gave up and with a sigh of frustration got up. After yanking on a robe, she went out into the common room and sat on the couch. Peanuts padded silently in and lay down. He lay his head on top of her feet. Meidh was so absorbed in her thoughts and the fire, she barely noticed. Her counselor/therapist back home would never approve of what she was doing – brooding too much on 'what ifs' and 'might have beens' only led to depression.

'What if? Means never was or will be… Some things are simply beyond our control… If you continually dwell on the past, life passes you by.' He had said. Most of the sayings he used were proverbs or clichés and were cold comfort to someone whose life had been torn to pieces.

McGonagall awoke just before one a.m. Deciding to check over the castle, she pulled on her tartan dressing gown and silently opened the door. The scene before her eyes made the Professor stop short. Meidh was sitting on the couch, staring at the nearly out fire. The young woman's eyes were red with unshed tears. McGonagall sat down next to her and pulled the grieving girl into a comforting hug.

Mechanically, almost as though she was under the influence of veritaserum, Meidh began to speak softly.

"They never told us exactly what happened. It was a clerical error that led to the training accident." She snorted softly, "As though that was supposed to make us feel better. It didn't matter HOW it happened; the point was that it did. The result was always the same – he's dead. They wouldn't even let me see him. They closed the casket before Dad and I came in. His commander told some stories and anecdotes the other men in his battery wrote down. Everyone said how well loved he was, how much of an asset he was to the community.

I couldn't take it anymore I stood up and screamed at the pastor – 'Then why is he dead? If he was as wonderful as everyone keeps saying, why are we here celebrating a life that has ENDED?' I don't remember anything more until later; I was out back of the church, sitting against the wall, my head on my folded arms on top of my knees, drained and empty. There was nothing more I could do. After I got his dog tags, Dad told me that I was going to go on Tuesday night and speak with the pastor. He said I needed help that was beyond him. Dad went with me the first Tuesday. At the end the pastor said he would like to talk to both of us on Tuesday night, but I should see the school guidance counselor on Thursday or Friday as well.

The only good thing that ever came out of those talks was Dad's and my discussions while we worked. That's especially when I began to notice the telekinesis, a tool that I wanted but was out of reach would move and be within easy reach before I got up to get it. As the months passed, I began to heal. There were still ups and downs but they were more manageable.

Then there was the day of the accident. Dad went into town to meet up with a customer and do some follow-up. He asked me to come along; how I almost wish I had. The policeman showed up just over an hour later. Silly me, I thought he was there to discuss the screening he had talked of putting on the deck we built. The plans were laid out since we were putting the finishing touches on them. He told me that dad needed me.

When we got to the hospital, the doctor tried to explain what happened to me. The upshot of it all was that there had been an accident and Dad may never wake up. After five days he woke up for a few short minutes, I knew what he wanted but it was another six days before I could bring myself to do it. I made the doctors let me be the one to pull the plugs out of the wall. The nurses unhooked the machines. Helplessly, I watched my Father, my provider, take his last breaths and depart." Tears silently coursed down her face. She wanted to stop, but there was one more event that needed telling.

"Two or three weeks later, I was home finishing up a project Dad and I had been working on together. When it was finished, I went back inside to shower. Deciding on a workout before the shower, the punching bag called me. Not even thinking about gloves or workout shoes, my work boots and socks got left at the door. The first few punches were as usual, and then something went wrong.

Everything that had happened over the last few months came back. The fury coursed through my veins. The bag was the target. I punched and hit, slapped and kicked all the while never stopping screaming. Some time into it, I heard someone asking me to stop while I stopped screaming to kick harder. They eventually handcuffed me and put me in the back of the police van. They took me to the hospital. The doctors made the decision to sedate me, as I wasn't calming down on my own.

A day later, the doctor told me I had two choices. One I could continue to fight and be strapped to the bed or sedated again or two, I could calm down. I calmed down. He went on to explain what damage I had inflicted. Sprained ankle and bruised shin from my kicking. Cut and bruised hands, swollen fingers from the punching and a strained shoulder." She held out her hands, palms down so McGonagall could see the still healing cuts.

"They kept me in the hospital for almost three weeks. Then I had to have a counselor who came around once a week to check up on me and for counseling. It took a lot of convincing for them to let me come over here and what's more to do it alone. My sorry excuses for friends had abandoned me after my dad died. There were rumors floating around that we must be wicked or have committed some grievous sin for all this to happen.

It's funny, the only place I've felt peace since then is here. The nightmares have almost quit and there's a sense of belonging. It's weird but soothing." Her story finished, Meidh fell silent.

McGonagall's head was nearly spinning with all she had learned. The professor noticed Meidh was finally falling asleep. She gently led her sleepy pupil back to her room. Peanuts, who awakened as soon as Meidh moved, followed and curled back up at the foot of the bed.

"Watch over her tonight, extra carefully, but let her sleep in, in the morning." McGonagall instructed the dog.

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Well, there it is. I hope you liked it.

Please review, bats big puppy dog eyes Thanks!

Disclaimer: Ms. Rowling is a gold medal writer, I'm not. However I have been advised to add this: All concepts, ideas and characters not recognized from the Harry Potter Series belong to the author unless otherwise specified.


	7. And Meidh sorts into

:D This may be a record! Two chapters back-to-back! Once more for Mystic!

Enjoy!

**Chapter 7: Sorting Time **

It was mid-morning before Meidh next awoke. She stretched and rose smoothly from her bed. Stopping for the five deep breaths she tried to start every day with, a wave of relief washed over her. Thinking back to the night before Meidh was startled; how much had she told McGonagall? Walking out into the common room after dressing, McRobertson noticed the professor reading by the fire. McGonagall looked up and smiled.

"Feeling better?" she inquired. Meidh sat opposite.

"Yeah, much…umm…what all did I say last night?"

McGonagall looked sympathetic, "The story of how you came to be here since your brother's death. If you would like, some of the professors are meeting in the staff lounge shortly for some tea and a chat. Would you care to join us?"

"Sure… err… Professor, did you tell anyone what I said last night."

"Not a word, I simply told them that you had had a rough night and were sleeping in." McGonagall assured.

"Thank-you," Meidh said genuinely relieved.

"However I would like you to tell the Headmaster the basics. He should know," the professor stated firmly.

Seeing no viable excuse out, McRobertson relented. "In private, just you, him and me. I don't want it broadcast."

"Certainly, shall we go then?" McGonagall rose and Meidh followed her out of the room.

The rest of the morning, Meidh entertained Professors McGonagall, Sprout, Madam Hooch, Madam Pomfrey and the Headmaster with stories of her father and brother. For the first time in many, many months, she recalled some of the mischief she caused in the workshop. From setting the table saw to reverse, to unplugging the planer and not saying anything, she had driven her father up one wall and down the other – as he used to say. That's what had prompted him to being to teach her how to use some tools, it kept her busy and out of trouble.

After lunch, Madam Hooch came up to Meidh with a proposition. "I contacted my nephew, who plays Quidditch for England. He's coming this afternoon with a few friends. They would love to teach you the basics of Quidditch. Are you interested?"

Meidh nearly fell over in shock, "Yeah, definitely, that sounds great!"

Hooch looked 'tickled pink' as her family used to say. "Change and grab your broom, I'll meet you down at the pitch."

Short minutes later, McRobertson jogged out onto the pitch. She skidded to a stop as four large young men turned towards her. The blonde haired one stepped forward and held out his hand.

"Kurtis Hooch. Pleased to meet you, Miss McRobertson."

Meidh swallowed, reached out and shook the offered hand. After a quick run through of the basics, the men mounted their brooms and took off for a short demonstration. Madam Hooch arrived and smiled at the look of awe of Meidh's face.

"Which position would you like to try first?"

"Seeker," she replied after careful consideration. The test went smoothly until the snitch came up behind her. Meidh's attention was focused on the chasers and the keeper. Kurtis smiled. Seeking wasn't for McRobertson. After another test, the men knew keeping wasn't one of her skills either. One of the young men handed her his bat with a quick explanation.

This is much better. Meidh thought.

"Who do I hit, err … aim for?" she asked eagerly.

"Whomever, generally you go for the chasers to stop them from scoring. Everyone's different so go for anyone other than the keeper – unless the Quaffle is within scoring range."

Meidh nodded and made her way over to the end of the pitch they were using. Watching for the black iron ball, Meidh made her decision on which player to go after. It took only three tries before she managed to catch the seeker off guard. The bludger ploughed into his side.

With a groan, Braden barely had time to land before he slipped from his broom. Madam Hooch bustled up.

"I'll take him up to Madam Pomfrey. You four continue the lesson." She spelled the nearly unconscious seeker onto a stretcher. Meidh had no desire to look at the remaining three men. Forcing herself to look up, she found Kurtis and the remaining beater watching her with apprehension. Braden was one of the best seekers in Britain. For her to catch him that far off guard was quite unique. The keeper looked at her with contempt. The young woman simply had no sense.

Kurtis flew over and took the bat from McRobertson. "Somehow I don't think Madam Pomfrey would appreciate you doing any more beating today."

"Or ever," Meidh added with a grin. "So, chasing?"

"Let's have a go," Kurtis replied.

Two near scores, six blocked attempts and a goal later the men called quit time to the lesson. Meidh smiled chasing was so much fun. The excitement and fast pace forced her to pay attention. When the group arrived at the hospital wing she hesitated at the door. Only with Kurtis' urging did she dare set foot inside.

"Braden'll probably want to congratulate you." Kurtis assured her. With no small amount of trepidation, Meidh stepped over to the bedside. Braden smiled when he saw her. He looked a little pale but otherwise fine. He was the one who broke the silence.

"Your aunt had to go," Braden explained to Kurtis. "She said something about helping get ready for supper. I'm fine. Madam Pomfrey healed me up quickly but insisted I stay until the lesson was over."

Madam Pomfrey came bustling over and fixed Meidh with a reproachful look. "I trust you won't be doing any more beating. My medi-potions store is hardly sufficient to handle such on a regular basis.

Meidh grinned, "Well… no, I'm going to try for chaser, though beating is a lot of fun. It really gets out the aggression."

Just then Professor McGonagall entered the ward. Spotting Meidh, she hurried over to the group.

"Kurtis, how wonderful to see you again. Are you and your friends staying for supper?"

"That would be a real treat, Professor. Unfortunately, we'd best be getting back. There's a match coming up in less than a month and the coach has ordered practice almost every morning." Kurtis explained.

"Unfortunate but understandable." McGonagall turned to her new pupil, "Meidh, it will be a semi-formal supper tonight. Please change into your school robes; I will pick you up at our common room at precisely 7:30pm."

"Professor, I know the way," Meidh protested.

"Yes, but I shall escort you. This is a tradition that we shall observe."

McRobertson gave a long-suffering sigh, "Fine, I guess I'd better go and get ready. It was fun learning to play guys. Maybe we can have another go sometime."

Kurtis shook her hand, "Take care and no more playing beater. No repeats of what happened today!"

By 7:20pm Meidh was ready. She studied her reflection in the mirror. The robes weren't too bad but she was glad Madam Malkin had been persuaded to let her buy pants as well as the skirt.

I hate skirts. Pants are so much more practical. Just have to be careful, if Dumbledore notices I'll be in so much trouble. Carefully she rolled up her pants so as to present the illusion of wearing a proper girls' uniform.

At promptly 7:30pm, McGonagall knocked on Meidh's door, "Time to go."

When the pair walked into the Great Hall, Meidh saw the round table she had come to expect was gone. In its place were four empty tables that ran the length of the hall and the Head table at the far end. McGonagall led the way towards the head table. Meidh saw a very old witch's hat sitting on top of a three-legged stool. The professor picked up the hat and indicated for Meidh to take a seat on the stool.

"Now for the Sorting," the Professor said, just before setting the hat on Meidh's head.

"Well, hello there," the Hat said in Meidh's ear. "I haven't seen someone from your family in a long time. Where do you belong? I see a great many things in your mind. Cunning, wit, loyalty, and bravery all exist here. I can see you do follow traditions when you choose to. Your family was traditionally in either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor. Ravenclaw would be a good match as you wish to learn as much as possible as fast as you can this summer. However, the losses in your life will require help to heal properly. Now this is interesting. You trust Professor McGonagall over all the other Professors here. Well, if that is the bond you have chosen to form to help your soul heal, I will not separate you from that. So the best choice for you will be… Gryffindor!" The last word the hat shouted for all to hear.

The next morning Dumbledore greeted Meidh warmly when she arrived in the Great Hall for breakfast.

"Today is the first full day of lessons. Here is your timetable. The first lesson will be Herbology with Professor Sprout. At the end of each lesson, the professor will escort you to the next class, until you learn your way around."

Meidh's last class that morning was Potions. Professor Flitwick dropped her off at the door. Meidh had already sat down and started thumbing through the text, when Professor Snape burst through the door.

"There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class."

Meidh suppressed a snort with difficulty. Contents of the file marked 'duh'. After all, what does waving a wand have to do with making potions?

"As such, I don't expect you to understand the subtle science and exact art that is Potion making." Snape continued.

Meidh immediately bristled and before she realized what she was doing she said, "In that case, I don't expect you to ever come close to hoping to understand the 'subtle science and exact art' that is me."

Snape pressed his lips into an extraordinarily thin line. "How dare you talk back to me? I am your professor and I will be respected!"

"Gotta give it to get it." Meidh retorted.

---------------------------------

Yup, she's not afraid to give what she gets. Snape… well let's just say she ranks right with Harry on his list of students he likes to teach. ;)

Please let me know what you think!

Thanks and Christmas candies for everyone!

Disclaimer: Ms. Rowling is a gold medal writer, I'm not. However I have been advised to add this: All concepts, ideas and characters not recognized from the Harry Potter Series belong to the author unless otherwise specified.


	8. RESPECT

:D I had planned on posting this in two parts -- possibly with a bit more but decided to post as is so... Two chapters in one! Once more for Mystic!

In case you're wondering, I just added the disclaimer to the chapters I noticed I had forgotten it on, no other changes to the chapters previously posted were made.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Ms. Rowling is a gold medal writer, I'm not. However I have been advised to add this: All concepts, ideas and characters not recognized from the Harry Potter series belong to the author unless otherwise specified.

**Chapter 8: R-E-S-P-E-C-T **

"Get up now!" Snape shouted. "We'll see what the Headmaster has to say about this!" He grabbed her wrist and pulled her with him out into the corridor. Stepping behind her, Snape told her to go on.

By the time the pair had reached the Gargoyles, both had calmed to a low simmer.

Dumbledore regarded his Potions Master and newest student. Both had composed themselves, but he knew it would take only a small spark to set them both off again.

Meidh was positively seething, "Do you have any idea what this… this… Professor," the title came out drenched in venom, "made an ass out of himself by assuming?" Without waiting for a reply she continued. "That I wouldn't be able to – and I quote – 'Understand the subtle science and exact art that is potion making'. If a teacher of mine in high school ever even insinuated something like that he or she would have lost their teaching license the first time!"

Snape was livid. "How dare you accuse me? You insolent, disrespectful…"

Dumbledore cut the professor off. "Enough. The both of you." The no-nonsense calm voice of the headmaster stunned both parties into silence. "Professor Snape, I will speak to Miss Robertson in private."

With a curt nod to the Headmaster, the Potions Master turned and left, his robes billowing behind him.

Dumbledore sighed and turned toward his still-agitated student. "Have a seat, please." Meidh obediently sat in the drawn up armchair. "Professor Snape is best respected but held at a distance. Tea, Lemon Drop?" The sudden offer threw off Meidh's expectations.

"No, thank you," she replied as calmly as possible. "So what you're telling me is to keep my head down and work as I do in my other classes. There's one small problem with that."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow but remained silent.

"I find it impossible to respect, and therefore heed advice, from someone who doesn't respect me."

"He will now," the Headmaster clarified. "He respects anyone – rather any student – willing to stand up to him and not back down. Mind you, he won't show it in any sort of way you're probably used to."

The discussion continued well into lunch as Meidh told the headmaster about her other two morning classes.

------------------------------------------

In the smallest bedroom of Number Four Privet Drive, a teenage boy lies in bed tossing and turning in his sleep. The dream is one that plagues him since the attack at the Ministry. Every night he watches Sirius fall through The Veil. Every night he fails to save his Godfather.

With a start, Harry Potter awoke. The loneliness that assaulted him at night was almost unbearable, but he couldn't lat on to anyone. Every three days he faithfully wrote the Order of the Phoenix. Harry's letters were always short, filled with only enough information to keep the Order members from showing themselves and upsetting his aunt and uncle more.

They blamed him for Sirius, he knew they did. Harry was the one that was unwilling to see that Snape would do that he could to help. The face and things said were meant to throw Umbridge off. It didn't matter now, the result didn't change; Sirius was still dead.

Just after dawn broke, Harry rose from his bed to write the needed note.

'I'm fine. The Dursleys are fine. Dudley is back on his diet. Will write again in three days. Harry.' He folded the paper and set it aside for Hedwig. Once she returned from the night's hunt, he would send it with her.

'Boy,' Harry's Aunt Petunia screeched from the bottom of the stairs, 'get down here at once!'

Harry sighed and headed downstairs. After eating his small one quarter grapefruit for breakfast, he was sent outside to weed the garden. It was no problem. After not being able to leave the castle much last year, the fresh air and sunshine were especially welcome.

It was late in the evening before anyone came out to see what was finished. Uncle Vernon stormed out; his face was red with rage. He picked Harry up by his upper arm, pulling him inside, and shoved him into a chair.

'Boy, be sure you write those freaks, they better not be showing up at our door.'

'Yes, Uncle Vernon.' Harry said dully.

Vernon grabbed Harry back up, shoving him upstairs, into his room, and locking the door behind him. Falling still clothed onto the bed, Harry listlessly toed off his worn out shoes, and pulled the ragged sheet over his thin form.

His nightmares eagerly retrieved their prey.

The scenes started with Cedric.

'_Is this supposed to be part of the task?'_

'_I dunno,' said Cedric. He sounded slightly nervous. 'Wands out, d'you reckon?'_

'_Yeah,' said Harry, glad that Cedric had made the suggestion rather than him._

_They pulled out their wands. Harry kept looking around him…_

'_Someone's coming,' he said suddenly._

A small figure appeared in the graveyard. The bundle it was carrying hissed.

'_Kill the Ssssspare.'_

_Pain almost more than he could bear needled through his scar at the words, 'Avada Kedavra!' _

The flash of green light grew blinding. When the scene cleared, Harry was once again standing by the mysterious archway and veil. Bellatrix was duelling with her cousin.

_The second jet of light hit him squarely on the chest._

_The laughter had not quite died from his face, but his eyes widened in shock…_

_It seemed to take Sirius an age to fall: his body curved in a graceful arc as he sank backwards through the ragged veil hanging from the arch._

'SIRIUS!' Harry screamed. No one around him noticed.

Waking with a start, Harry moved to huddle in a corner, trying valiantly to calm his frazzled nerves.

+-Disclaimer and other information available at the end of the chapter.

------------------------------------------------

The next week Meidh began to feel more and more frustrated. The professors were plodding along at a snail's pace with her lessons. The extra energy ended up being expended by running. Meidh ran five laps around the Quidditch stadium before breakfast, one or two over lunch, and another five to seven before sunset. Most of the time, Peanuts ran with her, as he had before his unexpected move across the ocean. Some days though, he merely sat and watched her.

Friday at lunch, Meidh blurted out to McGonagall, "I want to change my schedule. The point of these summer lessons is to learn as much as I can as fast as possible. These short lessons simply do not help. Also, I imagine it is wreaking havoc with the staff's collective summers."

McGonagall smiled, "I suppose you have a proposed schedule made up?"

"Yup," Meidh said proudly. "One class a day -- except Wednesday -- with those classes that are really just practical or theoretical not both. Do you think that Professor Dumbledore will agree?"

The hope that he would approve was clear in the young woman's eyes.

"I think so," McGonagall assured her. "Explain to me what you want. Then the two of us can present the option to the Headmaster."

"As I see it, Monday is Transfiguration, Tuesday is DADA. Wednesday is a lot of fun, History of Magic for the first half of the morning, Herbology for the remainder and the first half of the afternoon, and Astronomy for the last of the afternoon and at midnight. Thursday would be Potions and Charms on Friday. We can Study the theory for the morning and do practical lessons in the afternoon."

With very little persuasion, Dumbledore accepted the change. At supper he made the announcement to the rest of the staff. With the exception of Snape, who was more disagreeing out of principle, the revision was eagerly received.

That weekend McGonagall disappeared for most of the day, returning only for supper. When Meidh asked what the professor was up to, the older woman simply smiled and said all would be revealed in good time.

On Monday with twenty minutes still left before lunch, Professor McGonagall called a halt to the theory part of Meidh's transfiguration day.

"There's something I want to show you." The professor explained, "Follow me." After walking through a nearly dizzying array of hallways and staircases, McGonagall stopped at the portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress.

"Password," the portrait asked.

McGonagall looked at her student to be sure the young woman was paying attention.

"Canadiana"

The fat lady nodded once and the portrait swung aside revealing a small doorway in the tower. McGonagall led the way in, beckoning Meidh to follow.

"This is the Gryffindor Common Room. For the main house population dorms are upstairs and down on the left for the boys and on the right for girls. However, given the fact that you do not fit into any particular year, there is something different for you. She moved over to a particularly hidden door."

"Peanuts," McGonagall said. The door swung open revealing a large bedroom. On one side there was the bed, a dresser, and a straight-backed chair. On the other there was a fireplace with a small sofa and two arm chairs gathered around.

"This will be your room. Through the door," McGonagall pointed out a door beyond the fireplace, Meidh had not noticed. "Over there, is your own bath. These rooms were designed for an adult, usually a woman, whose job it was to oversee the happenings within the house. He or she also cared for basic colds, headaches, etc. of the pupils. Anything more serious was passed on to the school nurse. What do you think?"

"It's so… cool! Thank-you so much. Is this what you were doing all weekend?" Meidh asked.

"Supervising, there are those in the castle who did the actual cleaning. Also, spells have been placed on the door to allow Peanuts free access without losing any privacy for the door being opened."

"Thank-you again. I don't want to seem ungrateful but we're going to be late for lunch if we don't go now."

McGonagall smiled and as the pair headed back to the Great Hall she explained, "Meidh, you may move into your room next weekend, if you wish. I doubt you will have any time for such activities this week."

"I imagine not." Meidh smiled as they sat down for lunch.

Professor Dumbledore seemed very pleased that Meidh liked her room so much. It would be very interesting to see the other's reactions.

-------------------------

Well I'm back. You know, all the research in the world, I don't think anyone is trying to find a cure for writer's block. Pity.

I mentioned my story trouble to a friend who gave me the advice of either writing the final chapter or finding a way around my stumbling blocks and helped me find a way around. I certainly hope I never have to do that again but I somehow doubt I'd be that lucky.

-+ Ok people, I tried to make sure that my direct quotes are in italics and the in between parts are either my paraphrase for the story or my original.

I tried to generally make it so that a direct quote was italicized – not completely a hard and fast rule.

No copyright infringement is meant by the use of the excerpts, I simply used them to further the plot in my FAN FICTION

_Quotations / Excerpts taken from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire Canadian soft cover edition Copyright 2000 J.K. Rowling Pages 552 – 553_

_And_

_Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix Canadian soft cover edition Copyright 2003 _  
_J. K. Rowling Pages 710 – 711_


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